


Should I try?

by everyhowlmarksthedead



Category: Mayans M.C. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyhowlmarksthedead/pseuds/everyhowlmarksthedead
Summary: @chibsytelford asked: Reader sees Gilly, Coco, EZ, and Angel in a bar and they all have been eyeing her up, Coco, EZ and Angel all try their luck with her but she is only interested in Gilly. He finally gets enough confidence to ask her out on a date 😊
Relationships: Gilberto "Gilly" Lopez/Original Female Character, Gilberto "Gilly" Lopez/Reader
Kudos: 8





	Should I try?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. At first, it’s gonna be one-shot but I truly like this idea, so I’m gonna write three chapters. Who knows? Maybe more.

You can't remember when was the last time you went out with your friends aka work-mates. But it's friday and have some beers and dance it's better than stay at home with Netflix on and eating cold pizza. So, here you're in front of the mirror. Black shorts high-waist and a body of the same color. Your hair is a goal to anyone this night, falling on your back like a brave waterfall. You also decided to wear those pair of Nike classic shoes, because night is young and you're not a high-heels fan. Make up on point, something soft and natural. You can't be more proud. And of course, a good outfit needs a leather jacket. Belongs to your mother, he gave you at your sixteen' before you found it in an old box, with some 80's stuff. Vintage as fuck. 

You meet your friends at “Freakin' out”, a bar where you can listen and dance all kind of music; pop, latin, rock... Lots of cultures at the same local. It's one of your favourites places of Santo Padre, people there is kind and fun, the only things you need after a looooong week working without a break. “Hey, (Y/N)!”, you know Debbie is already drunk when she starts to shake a hand on air with a lot of energy and a happy smile in his lips. Oh, for god's sake. You also know that probably you'll have to bring her home, 'cause she'll not remember her own name at the end of the night. 

“What's up, guys?”, you said, giving a hug to everyone at your table. You take a sit by Alex's side, your best friend. You met him four years ago at the supermarket. A random day talking about tomatoes and carrots, 'cause you love cook and those ones are your worst enemies in a sauce. That was pretty fun and you two always remember that fact when you're drunk. “What are you drinking, hm...?”, you ask looking every drink on the table with curiosity.

“Tequila!”, Debbie is on point, everybody start to laugh loudly. You shake your head before getting up to your way to the bartender. You wait with your arms supported on the bar, having a look around you. People dancing, drinking, talking about all and nothing, having a good time. And then, before you put your eyes again in the bartender, you can see a specific table. Leather jackets, tattoos, shitty faces, empty beers and rings decorating their fingers. Bikers. The Mayans ones. You know them, not personally, but who the hell didn't heard before about them in Santo Padre. They make the rules.

“Oh, god, please not tonight...” you whisper to yourself when one of the Mayans gets up and walk to your position. Supporting his worked body against the bar, he looks to you from top to down. You try to ignore him, making him believe you didn't notice his presence.

“Yo', I'm Angel, but I can be whoever you want me to be”, he offers you a hand waiting to be shake. A funny smile in his lips and you asking in silence to yourself if this works with other girls. It's not gonna work with you. You're not into bad boys.

“Great, congratulations”, you answer turning your no-friends face at him. He knows. You're not that easy. 

“Hey, I'm tryin' to be friendly, what's wrong with ya'?”, he asks pretending to be offended, before he starts to laugh at you.

“I have a lot of friends, thanks”.

“Do ya' know who I am?”

“Yes, I buy at your father's carnicería”, you look at him, ignoring the fact that he's a Mayan and he wants to let you know.

At that moment, he already knows he's not gonna impress you with his Harley. So, he nods in silence and comes back to his table. You can see how his crew palm his back with peals of laughters for the lost battle. Another fallen soldier. A minutes later you come back to your table too, holding a beer between your fingers.

“Only you could say ‘no’ to a Mayan... Sweet Jesus, (Y/N), you're fucking crazy”, James shakes his head. You shrug having a sip of your drink.

“Well, I actually said ‘no’ to /this/ Mayan”. Of course you've been looking at them all, and you have your interest put in one specifically. But you have the suspicion that he's not gonna ask you out.

The night go on. You dance with your girls for long minutes and good latin songs. You're hips moves so easily that seems like you've been dancing all day long. Of course, alcohol has a lot to do on it. Also you're fucking happy you decided to put your Nikes shoes, when you're friends start to complaining about the pain they feel on their feet. 

Without wanting, you collide with someone at your back. You turn at him putting your hands on his chest, with a loudly laugh in your throat. “Oh, god, I'm so sorry. You ok?”, you ask, before you know another Mayan is in your way. The younger one, maybe the one they call ‘prospect’. He nods smiling with a sweet gesture. EZ Reyes. You knew him at his father's shop two months ago. 

“Are you having fun? Sorry 'bout my brother's shit”, he says pointing at him with a finger, just for a moment.

“Yeah, it's been a long time since I hanged out with my friends. And... don't worry about him. I can imagine how is him”.

“Really? Please, tell me”.

“He's not you. But you already know it, smart boy”.

“So, this fact lets me share a drink with you, ah?”

“Nice try, prospect”, you palm his chest with a hand, shaking your head before leaving him in the middle of the dance floor.

You come back to your own crew, they're looking at you with a incredulous gesture. Your mates think you're terrible and probably you're gonna die alone with this attitude. For the next five minutes, James and Shawn argues with you about you should accept a drink of one of them. You roll your eyes getting up and looking for a cigar in the inside-pocket of your jacket. You need some aire after four beers and the loudly voices of your friends pushing you into the Mayans. It's not what you need and you start to think maybe Netflix and cold pizza was a good plan too.

You leave your back against the wall, with a leg flexed. Smoke goes out by your nose. Fresh air always help with this kind of situations, you can't stop thinking about the idea that you're almost on your twenty seven and you only had one boyfriend. The most asshole of all. You broke up with him last year and he continues calling you to tell you your a fucking shit, before starts to cry and telling you how much he miss you. He also went to your work a couple times with flowers. You hate flowers. You hate him. You have a horrible taste to choose men, so you prefer to be alone. But, that doesn't mean you don't wanna hang out with the Mayan your eyes are on.

“Bonita, have one?”

“Sorry, what?”, you turn to the man at your left. More tattoos than man, actually. He's looking the cigar between your fingers. In silence you give him the packet, so he can pick wichever he wants.

“You smashed Angel's ego, gurl'”, he says to you, adopting the same position by your side.

“I can do it the same with yours. Look, I go to war everyday, you're not gonna intimidate me”.

“Oh, really? I was sniper”, his proud smile points at you, turning his face to look at you a little better. Probably he thinks ‘between soldiers’ could be easier to share some drinks. Poor deluded.

“I work at a preschool”.

“Shit, gurrrrl”, he laughs having a puff away. “I'm Coco”.

“(Y/N)”, you say then. “Are you all try to ask me for a drink, or a date, or something like?”

“Eres muy bonita, we had to try”, he nods.

“Yeah, for sure. . . Is the only thing you matter about? I mean, I'm more than an ass and tits”, you throw the cigar to the floor when it finished, with a sigh in your lips.

“Hey, Coco! We're leaving!”, EZ voice makes appereance, few meters away. The crew have their helmet in their hands, near of the motorbikes they drive. Probably you're never gonna see them again, and you start to feel bad about the fact that the one he likes you didn't propose nothing. The man by your side shake his head one time saying goodbye, walking to his mates. Another sigh comes out. You start to move your legs with resignation, feeling a little like the Mayans you fucked up. Maybe he's not for you in anyway. Maybe there's no men for you, in the way you want. Find someone who shares similitudes with you it's hard. You're not complicated to understand or to treat, but looks like in Santo Padre is only bad boys or asshole or both.

“Go, try it, don't be stupid”.

“You don't have nothing to lose”.

“C'mon, Gilly”.

You can't avoid to hear the guys talking to the fourth one, pushing him away of his own bike. You try not to smile 'cause it's pretty fun how they think you're gonna say ‘no’ to him too. They're wrong. Very wrong. Secretly you've been watching him from your table, from the bar, from the dance floor, trying to get his attention. Yeah, he looks exactly like Angel, EZ and Coco. But he also looks like a good guy. You heard before some jokes he made and you have to tell that he's pretty fun.

“Fuck, Gilly. Go ask her”, EZ push him into your way, making you stop your steps.

“Oh, hey...”, he says with a hand on the nape of the neck. He looks nervous, maybe he's gonna sweat in a moment. Is trying not to look at you from top to down, keeping his eyes on yours. You cross your arms on your chest, with both eyebrows up waiting for another word. But he doesn't say anything, staring at you in silence.

You snort rolling your eyes. It's not your night, it's not your week. You turn aroind your feet, taking the door to pull it and go back to your table, maybe you'll finish your beer and go home.

“Wait, wait!” You hear his voice again, a big hand pushing the door to not be open. “I was... asking myself... if you...”

“Yeah?”

“Ifyouwouldliketohaveadatewithme?”

“Fockin' Gilly”, Coco talks sitting on his bike.

You look at him for a moment, before giving all your attention to the shy big guy in front of you.

“A date. You and me. You know... A date”, he repeats, more or less the same question.

“I thought you would never ask”.

“So... you want?”

You give him your phone, just to make it more interesting with the “I'll call you” shit men usually do. You're one step ahead as your three older brothers teached you. With a smile, he takes it typing his number.

“I'm Gilly”.

“Yeah, I heard it because your sniper friend”, you finally say. “My friends are more pretty than me”.

“You've been talking about maths and children with the guys”, he says then, pointing the fact that he's not like Coco, EZ and Angel. You can't avoid to smile, getting down your eyes at your shoes. You leave a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I'll call you”.

“I hope so”.


End file.
